


Unstoppable

by rocketsfindplanets



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Flirting, M/M, Real Madrid CF, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:01:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocketsfindplanets/pseuds/rocketsfindplanets
Summary: Step one was simple. Get in, watch some footballers, maybe conduct a few impersonal interviews, then get out. No attachment or emotional anything needed.Failed step one.





	1. Prelude

_“There are a lot of clubs looking at you, you know. You’re_ good _.”_

_The boy blinked, looking up from the paper that he had been staring at for the-- what was it, past thirty minutes? An hour? Homework tended to start to blend together after a while, and he wasn’t sure that he even cared anymore._

_“I know.” He chewed on the eraser of his pencil, rubbing at his eyes and blinking a few times before trying to turn his attention back to the paper. All he had to do was finish up this quick literary analysis, it wasn’t usually something that he had trouble with._

_“School would be difficult, and you’d have to be away from home…”_

_“I know.”_

_Gareth sighed and pushed away the paper, running a hand through his hair. He could hear a voice in his head chirping at him to trim it some time, but he pushed that away, too. He had much better things to worry himself over._

_“Gareth?”_

_He looked up at his mother, eyes a bit wide. “Yeah?”_

_“Are you even listening to me?”_

_“I am, really. I’m just… distracted.”_

_She nodded, sighing. “I’m sure that you are… but it’s something that you need to think about, alright? Because you know that Southampton wants to have you.”_

_It was his turn to nod, now. He was tired after a long, stressful day of school, everything felt so empty, without much of the enthusiasm that he typically had._ Especially _when it came to football. God, what was wrong with him?_

 _He had been training with their youth team, and he knew that even if he maybe wasn’t at the top, he was close, he_ was _good, there were people that honestly wanted him on their teams. He could really do this, he could fulfill some of his dreams, have his life be football._

_But what about his other dreams? Gareth found his gaze pried back to the paper on the table. He knew that what he had written so far was good; he did have other talents off of the pitch, believe it or not. And he really did love to write. He had to suppress a chuckle at a memory of himself proudly boasting to one of his primary school teachers that if he couldn’t make it as a footballer it would be okay because he’d be famous through his writing, anyway._

_Ah, to be a kid again and to have nothing to worry about other than that._

_“Gareth?”_

_Again he found himself blinking dazedly, looking up. “Uh huh?”_

_“You should get some sleep. You don’t seem to be doing too well. I hope that all of this stress isn’t getting to you…”_

_“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he slowly stood, swallowing hard. “Maybe you’re right, though. Sleep sounds like a good idea.”_

_“It does,” his mother agreed, gently kissing him on the top of the head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”_

_“Yeah, sounds good. Goodnight.”_

_“Goodnight, Gareth.”_

_He didn’t bother gathering up any of his homework from the table, figuring that he had the entire weekend to finish it up and get things organised. He wondered if he had more than the weekend to figure out everything else, though._

_Gareth went to bed without further hesitation, hardly bothering to undress before curling up under his covers, eyes burning as they finally grew heavy enough that they closed against his will. He wanted to_ think about it _, he didn’t really want to sleep._

 

_But in his heart, Gareth knew that he had already made up his mind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy y'all. Thanks for reading! The rest of the chapters will be longer than this I swear, ha. I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, this is my first RPF fic so I'm just figuring it out as I go. I don't honestly care that much about accuracy, so don't bother correcting me, if you don't like it, I'm sure there are plenty of lovely accurate fics out there. I just had this idea and couldn't get it out of my head.
> 
> Please feel free to comment or message me on Tumblr: jacklisowski.tumblr.com!!


	2. Chapter 2

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee--_

Gareth groaned as he lazily hit the snooze button, curling up a bit tighter under his trusty comforter, whining softly at the idea of getting up. It was Saturday, he didn’t have any desire to be up. But, all the same, he eventually did push off the blanket, stretching and staring up at the ceiling for a long moment as his vision adjusted.

Right. Work.

Another few moments passed before he finally drew himself from the bed, yawning as he reached down to touch his toes. _Awake_ was really the last thing that he wanted to be right then, but he knew that it was important.

He had been so, so very lucky to get the internship that he had, and he definitely didn’t want to lose it just because he wanted another hour or two of sleep one Saturday morning.

He went through his normal routine, taking a quick shower and throwing on a hoodie (it was beginning to get a bit chilly out) and a pair of jeans. He didn’t really need anything fancier, which was nice. Finally, he grabbed his phone to check for any notifications that he had received while he was asleep, turning it on as he started to brush his teeth.

Whenever he saw the message, he swore that he choked on his toothpaste.

_Yo, Gareth. It’s no big deal, but I’m super sick and bedridden and it’s definitely not going to be possible for me to do any more research. So I thought it would be a perfect experience for you! You know my entire procedure, and there’s a schedule attached. And of course no need to show up to my place until I’m better. Thanks, man, I can always count on you._

Somebody was going to die.

Gareth tugged at his hair as he looked at the attached schedule. This had to be some sort of joke, right? It absolutely had to be. He knew for a fact that Davies didn’t do this much research himself, so why did he have to?

He was very, very prepared to send back an impulsive text refusing to do it, but he wasn’t a particularly impulsive person. He took a deep breath, setting his phone down. This was fine. It was a skill that he needed to have, it could be fun, maybe…

Oh, who was he kidding? Gareth had schoolwork to worry about, he didn’t want to spend this much time researching anything, for his internship or not!

It was now that he was beginning to wonder why he had thought that an internship with a local author would be a good idea, anyway. The guy was pretty well-known for his young adult novels, mostly having to do with baseball. _Baseball_. Sometimes, Gareth wondered why exactly he didn’t live somewhere like America.

So now that he wanted to expand into the world that was football, he had to actually research what exactly being a football player encompassed. Which meant observing the university’s team. And now that he was sick or whatever, it meant _Gareth_ observing the university’s team.

The young man took a deep breath or two, composing himself before texting back a quick, ‘ _Sure. I’ll be there_.’ And that was that. He contemplated things for a moment before switching into a pair of sweatpants, shoving his phone and his keys into his pockets and slipping on his shoes before being on his way.

It was a bit early to leave according to his good friend the attached schedule, but he usually went out on a run in the morning anyway, so it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, if he wanted to walk, the football fields weren’t all that close. It would work out fine.

He tried to keep his mind cleared on the jog there. He just had to take some notes on what the guys did for practice, what about it was such a big deal? Maybe it was that he used to play football, maybe it was that he was too _tired_ for this, maybe it was--

“Hey, watch where you’re going.”

Gareth looked up whenever he ran into somebody, cheeks a bit red (more so than from the chilly morning air) as he mentally chastised himself for not paying more attention to where he was going. “I… yeah, I’m really sorry, I…”

He knew who this was. They had never spoken before, that much he was sure of. Maybe he had seen him on campus before, maybe he hadn’t. But was there a person around who wouldn’t recognise him?

The famous Cristiano Ronaldo. Already a fashion designer and model, and… ah, _right_. Star of the university football team. At the realisation Gareth only flushed a bit more, reminding himself that he would, in theory, have to be spending a lot of time with the guy. And God, what a _great_ first impression he had already made.

Ronaldo just shook his head slightly, raising an eyebrow as he held out a hand to shake. Gareth took it after a moment, not at all surprised by his firm grip. “Cristiano Ronaldo,” he introduced, and the other was just left to wonder why exactly he was introducing himself.

“I know,” he ended up blurting, wishing that he wasn’t so nervous. “I mean… I’m Gareth Bale.”

He got an odd look at that, one that he couldn’t quite decipher. So he just went along with it, swallowing hard and nodding slightly.

“Gareth,” he repeated, chuckling. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. You don’t play a sport, do you? What are you doing here so early?”

“Uh, no. I’m actually just here to do some research, watch the football team actually…”

At this, Ronaldo’s gaze softened notably, and Gareth couldn’t help but to feel relieved. “I see. Come on, then. Practice has already started, but I can walk you down.”

“Because you’re hurt.”

He nodded slightly, chuckling. “Yeah, shin splints, I won’t be out long. You seem to know a lot about me.”

“Doesn’t everybody? I’m sure that you’re used to it.”

“You’re right. You’re the lucky one, though, because you’re actually talking to me, no?”

Gareth had to roll his eyes at that. The guy definitely knew that he was good, that was for sure. He had earned it though, he supposed. “I guess so. Hey, I’d love to stick around and talk, but I do need to actually get down there.”

“Right, right, sure. Come on, Gareth.”

He just nodded and followed the guy down, thinking. He really, _really_ hoped that Davies got better soon, because he didn’t know how he could spend so much time around the team, especially if they all had as big of egos as he was sure that Ronaldo had.

Ronaldo sat down on a bench down on the field, patting the seat right next to him. They got a few looks from the players out on the field that were just passing, but for the most part, the whole ordeal was just very… underwhelming. Then again, Gareth wasn’t sure what he had been expecting.

He tapped his fingers against his leg after sitting down, watching and occasionally glancing back to his companion on the bench. It was only a few minutes until the team stopped, though, slowly gravitating over toward where the two were sitting.

Gareth couldn’t tell if all of the attention was on him, or Ronaldo. He was silent as one man walked up, holding out a hand to him. Tattooed arms, nice hair, a beard. He was sure that he had seen him before, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

“You must be Gareth?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me…” He slowly took the man’s hand, a bit unnerved.

“Sergio Ramos, team captain. Definitely call me Sergio. Mr. Davies told us all about you. Don’t worry much, I think he knows plenty about us at this point, you can pretty much just chill.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Cool. And Cris, you decided to show up!”

Gareth followed his gaze to the man beside him, unable to help a smile at the nickname.

“Yeah, I did. I’ve been trying to take care of myself, but I thought I’d come down and watch you guys, maybe get in a few drills.”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Sergio shook his head, smiling. “We definitely need you to get better soon, we won’t be the same without you.”

That got a groan out of the man, but no verbal response.

“Perfect. And Gareth, if you have any questions, we are all here. Hopefully Cris won’t bother you too much.” Sergio winked at him before running out onto the field. A few others introduced themselves, but the names and faces blurred together, and before he knew it, they were alone on the bench again.

For a long, long moment, Gareth only stared out at the field, a bit dazed. He only snapped out of it whenever he heard laughter.

“They can be a lot, I know.”

“Oh, I don’t mind… Honestly Mr. Ronaldo, I just intend on watching, I don’t see myself talking to any of you all that much, no offense.”

“None taken. Call me Cristiano, though, no need for the formalities. You certainly don’t have to talk to us, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Mhm.” Gareth chewed on the inside of his lip. “I doubt any of you would want to talk to me, either, honestly. I’m just a writer trying to make some money, I’m not exactly… on your level.”

“You don’t think so?” Ronaldo-- Cristiano, he thought-- asked, cocking his head to the side slightly. “There’s more in life than just football.”

“You would know,” Gareth mumbled, sighing softly. “I just… write.”

“That’s true. A lot of people would say that I’m more successful than you. Maybe they’re right. But if you like writing, what’s the big deal? You don’t necessarily have to be rich or famous to be happy. It makes me happy, sure, but everybody’s different.”

And that’s supposed to make me feel better? he thought.

“Maybe so, but being famous like you would definitely be nice. I’m only a freshman here and I’ve still heard so much about you…”

His eyes were bright as he spoke, even if he didn’t exactly realise it. How could he not look up to somebody like Cristiano? Sure he was cocky, sure he was somebody that Gareth could never have imagined talking to. But he was so talented, he had everything that Gareth had once wanted. Everything that he had, perhaps, given up.

“Well, of course you’re going to be unhappy with that sort of a mindset. It’s never too late to start playing, you know. I’d help you practice now and then, if you wanted.”

“Really?” had made its way out of him with a gasp before he got the chance to silence himself. Gareth thought for a moment before quickly blurting, “I don’t play, though. I… no interest, you know? This is just for my job.”

“You keep saying that.”

After that, things were pretty quiet. Occasionally they’d exchange a few words, numerous times Cristiano tried to get up to join in on a less exerting drill. But for the most part, nothing really happened.

By the time that the team was done and they were all taking off their cleats and packing their things, Gareth was more than happy to get up, ready to go back to his room and hopefully get some more sleep. As he was standing, though, he felt a hand on his arm.

“Cristiano? You need something?”

The man shook his head at the question. “No. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Thirty minutes early?"

Gareth looked at him thoughtfully, his only response before leaving being, “We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cool. @ those of you that haven't already stopped reading: ayyy, nice. Comments appreciated, as always. I don't know where this is going anymore than you do.
> 
> Also might be writing more often because I might not play FIFA as much?? Ronaldo requested a transfer and now he left us for Man U so rip ??????????????????


	3. Chapter 3

_“Gareth?”_

_He wasn’t entirely sure where he was. His memories seemed blurry, everything seemed blurry. Everything except for that voice. Familiar and welcoming and--_

_“Cris?”_

_He turned around to see exactly who had expected to see. That was all he had to see, and everything made sense. It was just him and Cristiano, what more was there to understand?_

_“That would me.” He flashed a smile that made Gareth’s knees feel weak. There was_ clearly _a reason that he was a model, God. “What are you doing here?”_

_Immediately, his mind scrambled for an answer. He didn’t know, but he couldn’t say that. This was Cristiano Ronaldo, he wasn’t trying to look stupid in front of him. His mouth opened for a moment, but he had nothing to say._

_“Right.” The man cocked an eyebrow at him, and Gareth would have slapped himself in the face if it wouldn’t have made things worse. “Well, anyway. We should get to practicing, right?”_

_“Practicing? Cris, I didn’t--”_

_“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re gonna jump on the ‘he’s hurt, he can’t play’ train, too.”_

_Gareth had to take a moment, thinking. He glanced around, eyes catching on Ronaldo. He was in his uniform, that was nothing new. Everything seemed normal enough._

_“Well… You probably_ should _try to get better, you know.”_

_Cristiano threw his arms up into the air, but the smile still hadn’t really left his face. “Well, shouldn’t you get to practice at least? Come on, we can walk together.”_

_He nodded slightly. “Sure. Let’s go.”_

_They were on the school’s campus, outside… Had they been there the whole time? He didn’t know. He was wearing a training jacket, for the school team._

_Gareth didn’t say another word, and neither did Cristiano. It ended up being more of a jog than a walk, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind that they didn’t speak. It was nice just being in the other’s presence._

_Whenever they got down to the field, nobody was there. Gareth looked up at the other, smiling slightly as he shook his head. “Liar. I had plenty of time, didn’t I?”_

_“You bet. Come on, put your cleats on.”_

_Had the weight of a bag always been there on his shoulder? He put it down on the ground, opening it and pulling them out, slipping out of his shoes before putting them on and lacing them up. By the time he finished, Cristiano was already out on the field, stretching and giving Gareth a look that seemed to rush him._

_It was only a minute longer and he was out there beside him, following his lead. The routine seemed all too familiar… but wasn’t it?_

_“I’ll just pass some balls up to you and you can shoot, yeah? It’ll be nothing too bad for me, and you can get some work in.”_

_“I… sure.”_

_Cristiano nodded, grabbing a few balls that had been in his bag. Had he been carrying it the whole time, too? Gareth shook away the thought, instead just getting into position for the drill._

_He didn’t have to be told where to go. And whenever Cris came out with the ball and passed it to him, he didn’t have to be told what to do, or how to do it. It was as if he’d been doing it his whole life. A few steps with the ball and it had been hammered into the net. Top right._

_Gareth just stared up at the net for a long moment, before looking back at Cristiano. “I just scored.”_

_“Yeah, you did. What, you expecting me to come hug you or something? Come on, let’s go.”_

_He wasn’t sure how long that went on. Cristiano would pass him a ball, he would shoot, he would score. Occasionally the other man would shoot a few, and Gareth could only watch in awe and think that it made sense that he was so well-known around there._

_Eventually, though, other did start to trickle in, and they went over to the benches, taking a short break before practice actually started. The players greeted them as they came in, smiling and speaking as if they’d all known each other for years._

_Maybe they had. Gareth smiled and greeted them back, though he didn’t move from his spot beside Cristiano. At some point, he found himself sort of staring at the other. He had always made him feel so welcome, ever since they’d met._

_It felt like it had been forever. If he ever had doubts about himself, there he was to make sure that he felt validated. He could just stare at him forever, too. Maybe that would be okay…_

_“Gareth?”_

_Maybe he could stay there forever. He liked them, they all liked him. He fit in there. This was where he was supposed to be after all anyway, right? This was what everything had always been leading up to, why would he be anywhere else?_

_“Gareth!”_

_He didn’t want to be anywhere else. There was nothing better than the pitch underneath his feet, a football being passed around, the team and Cristiano and the team there with him. This would be okay._

_“Gaaaareth?”_

 

 _“Gareth!”_  


 

“Gareth!”

His eyes opened slowly at the sound of his name being called. The sound of knocking on the door reverberated through the small room, too. He cursed under his breath, scrambling out from under the covers to throw on a hoodie and a pair of shorts that happened to be beside him.

“Gareth Bale, I know that you’re in there!”

“I’m coming!” he called, rubbing at his eyes as he walked up to the door and unlocked it. What time was it even, who would be there early enough that they had to wake him up?

“There you are.”

At first, Gareth was just left to stare, blinking. “Cristiano. I… wasn’t expecting you.”

“I know.” The man didn’t wait for an invitation in, just stepping past Gareth and waltzing in as if he owned the place.

Gareth was still hardly awake, and couldn’t really manage more of a response than to close the door and think things over. A dream, it had just been a dream. He definitely did not play football for the school’s team, and he was definitely not close enough to Cristiano that him coming over was normal. In fact…

“How did you know where my dorm was?”

“Maybe I know everything about you, too.”

“...What?”

“Davies told me.”

Gareth nodded at that. Made a bit more sense, he supposed. But still not enough sense that he was done questioning the situation. “Okay… and you’re here because…?”

Cristiano shrugged, making his way over to sit down on the edge of Gareth’s bed. “Because it’s the afternoon and you were, evidently, still not up.”

Was it really? The Welshman groaned whenever he glanced over at his clock. 13:27. Great. “Evidently,” he agreed, going to grab his comb from the small nightstand by his bed. He wasn’t going to let a guest (invited or not) get in the way of his morning (or afternoon, in this case) routine.

“Hey, cheer up. For the record, though, you weren’t there thirty minutes early. Or at all. You gonna get in trouble for that.”

“I doubt it.” He paused. “And, _for the record_ , I never promised to be there thirty minutes early for anything. I told you, I don’t play.”

“But you _could_ ,” Cristiano said, apparently not willing to give it up anytime soon.

“I guess that I could.” Hopefully that would appease him, a bit at least.

Cristiano paused for a moment before continuing. “Whenever you ran into me, you _were_ running. You’re in shape.”

Gareth started to comb his hair, just nodding along as he spoke. “I’m sure that there are plenty of people who are in shape.”

“That’s true.” Whenever he sighed, Gareth wondered if that was his resignation, even if just for the day, or the hour, or anything, really. “I’m not really here about that, though. The team was worried about you, so they made me come check that you were alive?”

He paused his combing to look at Cristiano after that, trying to gauge if he was joking or not. At the rather serious expression on his face, he couldn’t help but to let out a little laugh. “You’re serious.”

“Yup.”

“I… I’m flattered, honestly. I just met all of you.”

“They get attached quick, trust me. Once you’ve talked to them a few times, you’re there forever.”

“No offense, but once Davies is feeling better, I’ll probably never see any of you again,” Gareth pointed out.

“Not if the rest of the team has anything to say about it. I’m telling you, there’s no escape.”

“Whatever you say.”

Cristiano nodded, seeming glad that Gareth agreed. “I still think that we should go out today. I can show you a few things, so that when you do, inevitably, get dragged into some passing or something, you have a bit of an idea of what to do?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll pass.” Gareth put the comb back where he had grabbed it from, going to look at himself in the mirror on his wall. Good enough, he reasoned, before turning back to face Cristiano. “I have things to do. So unless you intend on staying in my room all day, you should probably leave.”

“I wouldn’t mind. The bed’s pretty soft,” Cristiano chirped before standing. “Do you have classes today?”

“No.” He sighed, trying to think of some sort of excuse. “I’m actually meeting a friend, I promise that I’d go out with him today, and I’ve kept him waiting long enough.”

He nodded slowly at that. “Yeah, sure. I have things to do, too. I’ll save a seat for you at the game, tomorrow. Assuming that you’ll be awake by the time it starts,” he teased, sticking out his tongue at Gareth.

“I will be,” he chuckled. “In theory.” He went to pull on some socks, then sat down on his bed beside where Cristiano had been sitting to put on his shoes and tie them. He stood again after that, yawning as he put his phone into his pocket and grabbed his keys.

He walked to the door after that, opening it and almost stepping out before he paused to look at Cris. “Well? Come on. The thing about you staying in here all day was a joke, find your own place.” His tone was light as he spoke, but he _did_ mean it. The guy was practically a stranger.

“I know, I’m coming.” After a moment longer he walked out, stretching. “See? Don’t worry, I’m not going to hold you up. You have ‘things to do’, right?”

“Right.” Gareth smiled, perhaps a bit sheepishly, closing the door before heading out toward the parking lot, where he assumed Cristiano’s car was. If he was going to ditch him so quickly after he had made the effort to come out and see him, walking him to his car was the least that he could do.

“So. You want to be an author?”

At the question, Gareth was admittedly a bit surprised. He looked over at the other, thinking briefly before offering a slight shrug as his response.

“I just figured, since you’re, what, the intern of an author?”

“Yeah. Something in journalism. I love writing, it just… lets me get all of my feelings out, I guess. Poetry and all that, you know?”

“Not really. I never did a lot of writing. If I had feelings that I wanted to get out, I would just take a ball and go outside.”

Yeah, me too, Gareth thought. Perhaps a bit bitterly, even.

After that they fell quiet again, leaving him with his thoughts until they reached the parking lot. He followed Cristiano to what was apparently his car, not particularly surprised to see that it looked pretty expensive.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Gareth sighed, reminding himself to set an alarm so that he could actually keep that promise, at least. He stood aside as Cristiano got into his car, just watching as he pulled out and left. He stood there for a few minutes longer, too, wondering what to do from that point.

Just go back to his room and get some more sleep? He had already lied about what he was doing, it wasn’t like it really mattered at that point. Instead, he found himself walking out to the mall near the university. It was a bit of a long walk, but he didn’t mind at all. Some exercise never hurt, right?

The whole time he tried to stop himself, thinking about how nice it would be to use the rest of the day to curl up in bed, sleep more, read something, essentially whatever he wanted to do.

But no, there he was at a football shop, buying a football.

He didn’t go out to the actual football field, afraid that he’d run into a team member that was still there practicing. Instead, he walked out to a park pretty nearby. Didn’t do much, just kicked the ball around a bit, messing around more than anything.

Gareth was almost amazed by how quickly it came back to him. Millions of memories came back to him, too, ones that he would rather not remember. Playing as a kid, as a teen, those days when he had considered if it could be his future.

There was one time, when he was much younger and had just started playing. He had fallen hard during practice, scraped up his knee real bad. And oh, he had scored, but it had been painful.

His coach had come up to him and smiled, telling him that he’d had a wonderful goal, asking if he was alright while the rest of the kids stared at him if he’d just died on the pitch. The voice was just as clear in his head, now.

“I know that it hurts, but you’re strong, right? And you scored! Don’t worry, little things like this will heal, and they’ll just make you stronger in the future, right? One day, everybody will know your name, and you’ll be so strong because you got past stuff like this. If you can overcome this, you can overcome anything, right?”

He had been crying, then. Small child Gareth hadn’t had a very high tolerance for pain, though that had changed as he got older. But those words had been what he needed to hear.

Still, he felt those same tears now, pricking at the corners of his eyes involuntarily. God, and in public, too. Gareth couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh, even if there was hardly anybody around. What in the world was he doing?

He only stayed out for a few more minutes, eventually heading back to his room like he had wanted to do in the first place. He set the football down carefully beside his bed before untying his shoes, looking up into the mirror.

So much had changed, hadn’t it? He smiled slightly as he tousled his hair, a bit longer than he had ever kept it, before. Maybe he would grow it out, he didn’t really know. Did anybody care what an author looked like?

Gareth slipped out of the hoodie that he had worn, just tossing it to the floor before getting back into his bed, getting onto his phone for a few minutes.

_‘You’re sure that I have to do this? The team is.. a little bit much. Don’t you know enough, yet? Can’t you research online?’_

_‘Oh, I’m absolutely sure. They like you. I think you’ll like them, too, if you’ll actually give them a chance. Besides, you need some actual friends. You’ll live.'_

That was questionable, he thought, but he plugged his phone in and set it aside without responding again. Surely the man would be feeling better before he knew it, and he could go back to his typical schedule of school and work.

Gareth closed his eyes, pulling his comforter over his head as he thought. Was he really gaining anything from this? Did it really matter, if he was making money? Besides, maybe hanging out with some of the rich guys on the team would get him some credit. There had to be some positives to it, he supposed.

Still, he was hesitant to sleep on the thought, his musings flickering to what he could remember of his dream. Playing for the school team. Was that really even possible for somebody like him? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t something that he wanted, anyway, possible or not.

Right?

He ended up falling asleep without really meaning to. At least he’d be plenty rested up for the game, the next day. A part of him still wished that he really had a reason to be rested up, unable to erase the idea of donning a team jersey himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all sooo much for the support, your comments really keep me going. <3 Also! I changed my Tumblr URL to gareth-walker.tumblr.com.. say what you will, but that boy has my heart. If you guys have any questions, comments, requests, etc. please feel free to leave them, I don't bite. Hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon!! Until then.
> 
> Edit; changed my URL againnnnn, hmu @ jacklisowski.tumblr.com!! (Still love ya Gaz.)


	4. Chapter 4

Gareth wasn’t going to go to the game.

He was up early enough, he was dressed, he was all ready to go and get there in time. And why not, right? He could go out and support the school, maybe have some fun, even…

He sighed, rubbing his face as he grabbed his phone, ready to text Davies and claim that maybe he was sick, too. He spent a considerable amount of time around the guy, it wouldn’t be too unreasonable. Something else caught his eye, though. A Post-it note?

He frowned slightly, putting his phone down again and peeling it off of the surface of the nightstand. A phone number. Interesting. Immediately he scanned his mind, trying to think of why he would have anybody’s phone number sitting on his nightstand. And on a Post-it note, at that.

So, not having many other options, Gareth kicked his phone up again and dialed the number, sitting down on his bed while it rang.

“Estou?” he heard once they had picked up. Then, after a moment, “Hello?”

Ah. Well, Gareth couldn’t exactly say that he knew a lot of people with a Portuguese accent…

“Oh.” It escaped his mouth without him really intending it to, and he smiled slightly after that, a bit flustered. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… I’m just… you know. Cristiano? Why do I have your phone number?”

“Because I left it for you?” he offered, and Gareth could practically hear a smirk in his voice.

“On a Post-it? Classy.”

“Of course.”

“You’re terrible.”

“There are many women who would disagree with that,” Cristiano hummed, and Gareth could only blush lightly and roll his eyes. It was  _ true _ , he supposed, but still.

“Uh huh. We get it, you’re good-looking.”

“You think so?”

Gareth blushed a bit darker at that, just huffing into the phone. “You know what I mean!”

“Oh, I think I do,” the Portuguese agreed, and he couldn’t really tell if he meant it as teasing or for real. He didn’t appreciate it, either way.

“Uh huh. Anyway, I should be going, I just wanted to see whose number it was.”

“That’s fair. We’ll see you before long, right?”

“Ah, right. Sure.”

Cristiano didn’t respond immediately, and Gareth wondered, briefly, if he was going to at all. Eventually, he spoke up, though. “You don’t want to come, do you?”

He thought for a moment, not sure if he should tell the truth or not. “Honestly? No. No offense to the team, but…” He sighed, tugging at his hair.

“I see. I think that we would all understand, though I can’t promise that nobody would say anything about it to Davies…”

“It’s fine. I get it. I just…” He sighed and shook his head, turning to face his wall. “I have my reasons, alright? I…”

“It’s okay.” Gareth was taken aback, a bit, by the gentleness in his tone whenever he spoke. “I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well or something. Get some sleep, go do whatever you have to do today.”

“Thank you…”

“It’s no problem. See you around?”

“See you around,” Gareth agreed, sitting up slightly as he hung up, quickly saving the number to a new contact (he wouldn’t need it, he told himself, but  _ just in case _ ) before setting aside his phone.

He didn’t get up for another few minutes. There it was, he had everything in place for him to just relax all day and stop worrying about football. But that would be too easy, right?

Before too horribly long he headed out toward where the stadium was, deciding not to worry about the actual team, sitting with them and all of that. That would maybe come later.  _ Maybe _ . Right then he considered it a pretty big step that he was deciding to show up to the game at all.

He bought a ticket at the door (money was, thankfully, not something that he had to worry about much) and went in to find his seat. It all seemed to happen pretty fast; before he knew it, he was sitting down and everybody else was filling in.

Gareth wore nothing to distinguish himself as a supporter of the team, but that was fine by him, honestly. Sure, he supported his school and all, but it’s not like he was suddenly going to be some diehard fan of the football team just because of this.

As the game started up, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket a few times, but he ignored it, just watching the game. If he was going to show up to one of these games, he was  _ at least _ going to enjoy it. And he did.

Whenever Sergio scored the opening goal, he even found himself standing and cheering along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter woo. Sorry that I've been absent, I've been busy with some stuff and I made some changes with the direction of the story, no big deal. Longer chapter coming up after this aha ;) Thanks for the continued support, and thank you to the people on Tumblr who have messaged me about the story! Love you all xo


	5. Chapter 5

They won, of course. The team was undefeated so far this season, so it came as no surprise. (Not that he had ever followed or showed interest in them before this, he insisted to himself, as if he had somebody to convince.)

Gareth actually left a few minutes early, figuring that he would get out before everybody else tried to. It was 3-0 and it didn’t look like the opposing team was doing anything productive anytime soon, so he wasn’t too worried about missing the rest of the game.

Afterward, he just stopped for some quick fast food, sitting in the restaurant and eating it alone. Maybe Davies was right, he  _ did _ seriously need some friends.

Well, he was friends with his son Ben, even if he was still in high school. He knew a few people in some of his classes that he was close enough to get together with occasionally… did it still count if they were just studying or working on a project?

Maybe it didn’t matter, if he kept up what he was doing with his good grades and all. And part of that, he thought, was because he gave himself the time to actually study and do homework. So no football, that was that.

Still, as he walked out of the restaurant, he texted Cristiano.

_ ‘Hey. Know you didn’t play today, but good job.’ _

After that he just slipped his phone back into his pocket and headed back to the dorm, figuring that he could finish up any work that he still had to do, then he could just relax and get ready for his 8:00 class the next day (the class was a rookie mistake, he knew now).

He found, thankfully, that he didn’t have that much to finish up. Just a bit to read and a quick analysis to write that would have been a bit quicker if he had just focused for a bit.

Instead, his mind wandered all over the place, just thinking about... things. How homesick he was (Spain still didn’t feel like home, and he felt that it was a blessing that a lot of people spoke English), his future, writing, football. Everything fun that he would really rather not think about.

Eventually he got it done, though, after maybe an hour longer than it should have taken. Oh well; if it was done, it was done, and he wouldn’t complain. He’d try not to, anyway. No promises.

It wasn’t too long after that that he received a response from Cristiano. At that point, he’d almost forgotten that he’d texted him at all.

_ ‘You watched?’ _ Then, not even a minute later,  _ ‘Ah. Social media.’ _

_ ‘Something like that.’ _

_ ‘You want to come out with us tonight? Toni asked me to invite you.’ _

_ ‘Uh, is it bad if I don’t remember who that is?’ _ Gareth stopped to think for a minute. Did he really want to go out with them? Did  _ they _ really want him to go out with them?  _ ‘I guess I can.’ _

_ ‘Alright. I never got around to telling anybody that you were sick, so have something ready to say, yes? I’ll send you the details.’ _

_ ‘Yeah, okay. See you.’ _

He was a little bit surprised whenever he got sent a time and address and looked the place up. Somebody’s house. He wasn’t sure exactly how he’d expected a bunch of university students to party, though, it did pretty much make sense. God, a real party. First time for everything, right?

The rest of the afternoon and evening that he had available was spent panicking over what to wear, how to act, everything that he might possibly need to know. Gareth googled the team, too, trying to put some names with some faces so that it seemed like he had at least paid a little bit of attention to them. His eyes caught on Cristiano as he scrolled through the players, and again on Toni.

Not bad, he mused. Toni, Toni, Toni. Probably a smart idea to at least try to remember the guy who had apparently invited him. He was pretty sure that he had a few of them down by the time that he got off and started getting dressed. A good start. He would work on it.

Gareth ended up settling on a button-up and some nice jeans, not really knowing what more they could expect from him. He slicked back his hair, too, just for the hell of it more than anything else. He checked himself out in the mirror a few times before leaving, just wanting to make sure that he looked okay in front of all of them. Didn’t want to look like too much of an idiot in front of his new… friends? The term didn’t feel right, but he didn’t know how else to put it.

He took a taxi to the address, noting how dark it was outside already. This was going to be a long night… That 8:00 class  _ really _ wasn’t going to go well. Worst come to worst, he could get some notes from a classmate. It would have been rude to decline the offer to go out, so it wasn’t a big deal.

Whenever he arrived, he sort of hesitated outside, noting that he could hear music even from where he was. In Spanish, he noted, as if he had expected anything else. After a long moment he went to the door, not too surprised to find that the door was unlocked. He swallowed hard, just opening the door and stepping in, eyes flickering around his surroundings.

Again, unsurprisingly, there were a lot of people there. It was a pretty big place, and it seemed nice, so it wasn’t really a problem. It did make Gareth a bit nervous, though. How was he even supposed to find somebody that he knew in this place?

As he walked in he got a few looks, but nobody seemed to question his presence. He wasn’t sticking out too much then, that was a good thing. Not that he had any reason to stick out; he was just getting more and more anxious as the music blasted and the scent of alcohol filled the air and he had absolutely no idea what exactly he was doing there.

Gareth pushed past groups of people dancing as gently and politely as he could, eventually making it to the kitchen. Yeah, definitely alcohol. That wasn’t really what had his attention, though. A bit shyly he walked up, smiling slightly as some of the nerves left him. “I, uh… Sergio?” He did definitely remember him, at least.

“Si?” He turned slightly, perhaps a bit confused until he recognised Gareth after a second. “Ah. Gareth, it is good to see you. Cris got you to come?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. You know where he is? Or, uh, Toni?”

Sergio nodded slightly, and Gareth couldn’t miss the smirk on his face, however light it was. “Upstairs, probably. Some others, too. Go on, have some fun.” He waved him away, and the freshman was given little choice. He murmured his thanks and nodded before scurrying away, finding the stairs to upstairs without much trouble.

The harder part, perhaps, was going to be actually finding them. There were a few rooms up there, and most of the doors were shut. Admittedly, he was a little bit afraid to open them. Wasn’t upstairs where people went at parties to have sex without people noticing? Or was that just in TV and movies? He wasn’t sure that he wanted to risk it.

Instead, he just stood there in the hallway for a while. He could still hear loud music, and voices echoed all around, conversations from downstairs, laughter and talking from the rooms up there, too. Somehow, this hesitation ended up saving him, because one of the doors opened and he recognised the figure that walked out.

“Gareth,” he greeted quietly, just nodding to acknowledge his presence as he walked past. He watched as he left, going down the stairs that Gareth had just come up.

James, he wanted to say? He wasn’t really 100% sure. He supposed that that was probably where the rest of “some others” were too, though, so he walked down the end of the hall and slowly,  _ slowly _ , opened the door, barely peeking in through the crack.

Sure enough, he quickly recognised Cristiano, Toni, and one other… it started with an M, maybe? After a bit of thinking to no avail, he decided to just think of him as ‘the one with the hair’ until he learned any different. He did have really nice hair, now that he really looked at it a bit closer. The lighting in the room was pretty dull, though, so it wasn’t the easiest to see.

Looked like a huge bedroom, now that he sort of glanced around, trying to take more of it in. He sort of got lost in at all, really, thinking again how damn nice the place was for a student’s house. Assuming that it was a student’s house, anyway…

“Hello?”

Oh, shit.

Gareth opened the door a little bit more, trying to smile a bit as he tried to scramble for an explanation as to why he had just been watching the boys sitting on the large bed. Thank God, he didn’t end up having to say anything.

“Oh, Gareth.”

Cristiano grinned and stood, opening the door a bit more and ushering Gareth into the room before shutting the door again. Toni smiled at him and waved, patting a spot on the bed beside him. After looking around again just a bit now that he was really in the room, he went to join the two still on the bed. Cris soon followed, sitting over closer to…  _ the hair guy _ , but leaving a gap between them, still. For James, maybe?

Gareth found that he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t really know any of them (Cris didn’t count, he decided) so it was a lot more awkward than he had originally anticipated it being, even considering all of the qualms that he had had about the whole thing. “I, uh… Thank you for inviting me,” he said in a soft tone, sort of praying that he was the only one that found the situation so awkward.

“Of course, anytime,” Toni assured him with a rather charming smile, shrugging and lying back on the bed.

Gareth nodded at that, gaze landing on Cristiano after that. “Who’s place is this anyway?”

“Sergio,” Cristiano replied almost immediately, as if he had anticipated the question. Maybe he had. If he was so good at everything else, why wouldn’t he be able to read minds, too?

(Gareth had the brief thought that as he looked at Cris, he sure  _ hoped _ that he couldn’t read minds because that would be more awkward than anything else.)

“Ah. Then this is his room…?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t mind when we are up here, don’t worry.”

Gareth nodded. “Alright. Why are you up here though, shouldn’t you be partying like everybody else, celebrate the win and all that?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired,” Cristiano said, and it sounded almost like a childish whine more than anything. It was cute, even.

“Me too,” Toni agreed, nuzzling into a pillow.

“You would understand if you played,” Cris mumbled, and Gareth just rolled his eyes.

“Uh huh.”

“Too busy writing?” Surprisingly, it wasn’t Cris that spoke this time, but mysterious hair man. Even so, Gareth shot Cristiano a quick glare before responding.

“Yeah, I guess. Between school and learning more Spanish…”

“Fair enough.”

After that, things went quiet for a long moment, none of them quite sure how to continue. Thankfully, it seemed that Gareth had lucked out once again as the door opened again and James stepped in with two drinks in his hands. He eyed Gareth perhaps a bit apprehensively before shutting the door and walking back over to the bed. As he had considered earlier, the man sat down on the empty spot on the bed. “Here, Marcelo,” he murmured, holding one of the drinks over.

Marcelo. M. He applauded himself mentally.

Gareth smiled a bit warily, watching as Marcelo took a first sip of the drink. He could tell that it was alcohol from the scent, but he didn’t know enough to identify it further than that. It made no difference to him, though, he didn’t drink. He didn’t party at all, actually, and this was hardly like a party at all, so he wasn’t exactly sure what any of them were supposed to be doing.

They all seemed pretty relaxed and fine with this, though, so he urged himself to relax, too. He was maybe almost halfway into relaxing whenever Toni said, “Truth or dare?”

Oh, great. No big deal, though, it’s not like the others would actually…

“Definitely a good idea,” came Marcelo’s voice, interrupting his thoughts.

“Why not?” asked Cris, shooting Gareth a wink that he promptly chose to ignore.

Oh,  _ great _ .

Toni sounded rather pleased whenever he spoke again, though. “Alright. Marcelo, truth or dare?”

Gareth didn’t honestly pay a lot of attention at first. As was typical of the games of truth or dare that he had played previously (which was not very many), it seemed that truth was the most popular option, and although he did learn some about the others, sure, it wasn’t anything particularly interesting.

He didn’t have much of a choice as to if he would pay attention or not, though, whenever he heard his own name from Cristiano, followed, of course, in the most teasing tone possible, “Truth or dare?”

He sighed. “Truth,” he decided, tugging at the ends of his hairs as he wondered, not for the last time, why he had decided to come to this party.

There wasn’t much hesitation before Cristiano asked. He had probably known that Gareth wouldn’t pick dare, definitely not so early in the game. Gareth didn’t know that he wanted to know what sort of dares some university students could think up while at a party.

“If you had to make out with one person in this room right now, who would you pick?”

Gareth really,  _ really _ hated parties.

He picked Cris but did it in a teasing way, hoping that it came off as more of him mocking the man for asking in the first place than actually meaning it. And maybe, just  _ maybe _ , he did actually mean it, but that was beside the point.

Questions and dares blurred together, and somehow nothing illegal or even morally sketchy ended up happening. Gareth even found himself having  _ fun _ , and by the time that things were getting a bit more intense and competitive, he felt like he really did know all of them better. Nobody else had come into the room or bothered them, so he had almost forgotten where they were, if not for the muted, slowly calming sounds of the party below.

Gareth was pretty sure that he was going to end up accidentally falling asleep there, honestly. They were all tired, but at that point, none of them were willing to call it quits; there was pride at stake, here.

“Truth or dare. Gareth.” He rolled his eyes at the sound of Cristiano’s voice, used to the playfully sexual nature that everything that he said seemed to take in this game.

“Dare.” Couldn’t hurt, right? So far, Cris hadn’t given out any particularly bad dares, Gareth was ready. The smirk that immediately crept onto his face couldn’t even do anything to change that mindset.

The game didn’t last very much longer, after that. Gareth left to go get some sleep (the possibility that he was going to show up to his first class was still iffy, but it was the thought that counted), he assumed that the others left at some point. All night, though, he was left wondering if pride was  _ that _ worth it.

“Do your worst, Ronaldo.”

“I always do. Tomorrow evening, I’ll see you out on the pitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!! There has been some stuff going on with my personal life that has kept me busy, hopefully y'all are still around. Also, @ anybody that I talked to: I am sorry I lied, no football action this chapter. In fact, this chapter didn't really serve much of a purpose at all hm.. oh well, what can you do?  
> Copa del Rey match tomorrow, hala Madrid <3 <3 As always, feel free to message me at jacklisowski.tumblr.com, and leave any comments or questions or whatever below!


	6. Chapter 6

There were so, so many things that Cristiano could have dared him to do. Kiss him, kiss somebody else, something more than kissing even. That would have been a very Cristiano thing to do.

But no, instead, here Gareth was after lunch, walking out to the practice field (going to class had not happened, he could get notes, it was fine) because he had too much pride to just push aside the dare as anything but a child’s game.

He had never actually confirmed to Cris that he would show up at all, but he had a feeling that he’d be there anyway, practicing alone if nothing else. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? He wasn’t there, and Gareth just turned around and went back to his dorm? It was hardly a big deal, the walk there couldn’t hurt.

If he appeased Cristiano this once, maybe he’d leave him alone about it from that point on. By the time his second thoughts really settled in, he was far enough that it would have been silly to turn back, anyway.

Gareth wasn’t surprised at all when the first thing that he saw was Cristiano kicking a ball into the net. He should be resting, he thought, but he knew that it wasn’t worth it to tell him as much.

Instead he just quietly walked onto the field, setting his bag down over by the sideline and approaching Cris. The Portuguese stopped to smile and wave, not hesitating to pass the ball over to Gareth. He swallowed hard and glanced down at it before glancing back up at Cristiano.

“Well? You stopped the ball, so you have to know something, yeah? You never played before?”

“Maybe a bit.” He regretted saying it immediately whenever Cris grinned, seeming very characteristically proud of himself. There was nothing that he could do about it at that point, though, so he just passed the ball back, hoping that this would be over with before he did something to convince the other that he was good enough to try out for the school team or anything like that.

“You pass pretty well.”

“Anybody could,” Gareth claimed with a shrug, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. “You just… kick it.”

“No.” Cristiano passed it back, shaking his head slightly. Gareth kicked it into the goal easily, top left. He bit the inside of his lip, admittedly a bit unnerved by the way that the other seemed to be watching and analysing every small movement. “Can anybody do that, too?”

Gareth shrugged, eyes not leaving the football. “Maybe.” He jogged forward to where the ball had found itself, kicking it to Cris before walking back out. This wasn’t so bad, he mused. If he just forgot the fact that Cris was there, at least.

(A small part of him considered, for just a moment, that no, maybe Cris was the reason it wasn’t so bad.)

“Maybe not.”

Gareth rolled his eyes as they continued on, the scenario seeming painfully familiar despite the fact that it had been years since he’d had an actual practice like this. He definitely remembered the pride, though, that he felt now each time one of his shots caused that swell in the back of the net.

And he was rusty, sure, but the ball was patient, and so was Cristiano. He was probably doing better than the other had anticipated, he figured, but that was to be expected.

It was on one of his misses that Cris spoke up again. “You’re really, really good.”

Gareth breathed out a small laugh and shook his head as he looked out at the ball. “No, _you’re_ really, really good. I’m about as average as it gets.”

Cristiano offered his stubbornness a half-smile. “You keep saying that, but I don’t see it. You need to try out next year. I’m sure that nobody would mind if you practiced with us sometimes. I could talk to Zinedine for you, and I know that Sergio wouldn’t care.”

Gareth sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he thought about it. “Look, I really appreciate it, but I’m just not interested. I’ve told you, I do writing. I don’t have time for a sport.”

“Right. You wouldn’t have time to come to practices or games, you can just do it right now because you don’t actually have to practice or play.”

He bit his lip. “I… okay, so maybe I would have time. But it would be stressful, and just…” He shook his head again, slowly. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Right.” Gareth saw that look in his eyes, though, and he knew that his life was going to be hell until he got the team out of it.

“I’ll help you get your stuff gathered up, but I think I’ve done enough here, yeah?”

“I suppose.” Cristiano just waved him away, though. “It’s fine, it’s not like I brought much with me. I’ll see you whenever.”

Gareth swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you.”

Even as he walked away, he couldn’t help but to glance back every few seconds at Cristiano, only stopping whenever they accidentally made eye contact. He would go take a shower, get caught up on class from that morning, relax for a bit until that night.

Whenever he made it back to his room he was quick to peel off his sweaty shirt and kick off his shoes. It was a short matter of minutes and he was going to the shower, turning it on and sighing as he stepped in, letting the hot water wash over him.

Gareth moved slowly, just letting himself enjoy the steam all around. He was a little bit sore, just because it _had_ been a while, but it was nothing like the actual players went through, he was sure. His thoughts (once again) drifted to the team, to Cristiano and what they’d just done.

How talented he was, how every single time he touched the ball it seemed to go exactly where he wanted it to go. The smirk he got whenever he teased Gareth about succeeding on a shot that the Welshman hadn’t been able to. And of course Gareth knew that he was joking, always, because he would laugh that sweet laugh and no, Cristiano was too sweet to ever mean something like that

Ha. Cristiano, sweet. He wondered what the other would say if he told him that he thought as much. He would have to call him and tell him later, he figured.

Or was Cristiano upset with him?

As he combed shampoo through his hair, he considered it. Was he _actually_ upset about Gareth giving up like that, not trying hard enough? It’s not like he hadn’t warned him-- numerous times, actually.

He resigned himself to stop thinking about it, knowing that no amount of thinking would change the truth. Eventually, he got out of the shower, lazily combing through his hair and putting on some boxers before sitting at his small desk to hopefully make up some work. Which he did, despite getting distracted by his phone a bit too often for his liking.

Whenever he finished he was more than happy to collapse into his bed, still on his phone, scrolling mindlessly through Twitter more than anything. The only thing that interrupted him, surprisingly enough, was an incoming call from none other than Cristiano himself.

For a while Gareth just sort of stared, wondering what exactly Cris might want. Long enough that his phone stopped ringing and he was left to just continue staring, wondering. Before too much wondering could happen, however, there was another incoming call. Cristiano. With a sigh, Gareth answered, knowing that if it wasn’t important, he probably wouldn’t have called again.

“Cris?” he asked, almost hesitantly.

“Pepe,” came a voice, familiar enough that he recognised it but no more than that. “I’m with Cristiano, though. The fuck did you do?”

“Me?” Gareth’s eyes were wide, his heart fluttering a bit. He hadn’t done anything, what was he talking about?

“I haven’t seen him this upset since he first got hurt. What did you _do_?”

“Oh my God. I… Can I talk to him?”

There was a moment of silence, and for a moment Gareth was naïve enough to think that that meant yes.

“No. He won’t tell me what you did, but I definitely got the idea that it was because of you. So I would appreciate it if--”

Gareth hung up. He slowly set down his phone. Well. So Cristiano really  _was_ upset? He quickly ran through the encounter again in his mind, trying to think of anything in specific that he could have done to set him off. Nothing came to mind, he didn’t think that he had said anything…

His phone was ringing again. He swallowed hard and answered, turning on speaker and semi-expecting to hear somebody (Pepe) yelling at him. Instead, he heard a soft, “Gareth?”

“Cris…?”

“Uh, yeah.” He could hear Cristiano clearing his throat, and his breath caught. “Sorry about that. I’m at Pepe’s, and he--”

“It’s fine,” Gareth blurted out. He didn’t like hearing Cris apologise, it didn’t seem right, and he hadn’t really done anything. “I just… if you’re upset with me, you can let me know. I should be the one apologising, I didn’t mean to…” He found that didn’t know what to say. He just wanted to fix things, which was difficult when he didn’t know what was broken in the first place.

“You don’t have to apologise, either.” And ah, there was some of Cristiano’s confidence. Gareth couldn’t help a small smile.

“You’re sure? Pepe said…”

“Oh, I’m sure he did.” Gareth could practically hear the smirk through the phone, and that was as reassuring as anything. “It’s no big deal, nothing has anything to do with you, you didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice was so confident that Gareth had no choice but to believe it.

“Alright…” Gareth took a deep breath and smiled. “And Cris? I’m sure you’re busy right now, but…”

“But?”

“I have played before.” He wasn’t really sure what made him say it. Perhaps he felt bad, he didn’t know, but it was out there now so it didn’t matter. “And I do still watch sometimes.”

“Oh?” He heard some quick Portuguese for a minute (between him and Pepe, Gareth assumed), before Cris asked, “What team?”

“Do I watch?”

“Mhm.”

Gareth thought for a moment, wondering if this was some sort of a test. He honestly didn’t watch football as much as he sometimes wanted to anymore, having other things to worry about. And he  _had_ wanted to detach himself from the sport as much as possible, though that was hardly an option now… “Southampton. The Premier League, I--”

“Barcelona?”

Gareth let out a small laugh, but he wasn’t sure that the phone was close enough to his face to catch it. “Makes sense, you want to know about Spanish football, since we’re in Spain and all. Now-- I definitely still don’t watch a lot-- but Real Madrid.”

Some more Portuguese, and some laughter, that (hopefully) sounded a lot more like happy laughter than ‘oh God he likes Real Madrid goodbye Gareth’ laughter.

“Good. It’s basically a requirement to be our friend. I was just going to let you slide because I thought that you did not watch.”

“I don’t!” he claimed again, which only warranted a chuckle from Cristiano.

“Sure, sure. I understand.” Gareth rolled his eyes but didn’t get the chance to respond before Cristiano was speaking again. “And Southampton?”

“Hey, I have my reasons,” Gareth huffed.

“And they are?”

He paused. “Know me a while longer.”

“Whatever you say. I best be going now, either way. But I do want an answer eventually, pretty boy.” And then Cristiano hung up, and that was the end of that.

Gareth set his phone down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, cheeks red and a small smile plastered onto his face.

And perhaps it had been in a teasing tone, the way that most of what Cristiano said was, but he had just called Gareth pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live-- So so so sorry that it's been so long since I updated!! I don't really have an excuse lol, hopefully it won't be so long this time, and I'm on break for a bit over a week so hopefully lots of writing can happen now. As always, comments, complaints, etc. are welcome here or on tumblr @ jacklisowski.tumblr.com!! Hope you all enjoy, next chapter will probably have some more focus on Cristiano and some more explanation for the events of this one.


	7. Chapter 7

“No, for the last time, I’m not upset with him or mad at him or anything else.”

In fact, Cristiano couldn’t seem to stop smiling. His phone was still in his hand and Pepe was still staring at him like he was crazy, but it was all good.

“So one minute you’re sulking like we lost the final, now you’re happy?”

“Sounds about right,” Cristiano agreed.

“You’re impossible.”

He shrugged slightly and plopped down on the couch beside Pepe, propping his feet up on the coffee table and sinking back into the cushion. “I’m frustrated,” he finally clarified, “not mad.”

Pepe nodded thoughtfully. “Right.”

“I just… I mean, you’ll be graduating this year, Iker, Álvaro… And we could always use new players anyway. _And_ he told me that he’s played before…”

“You can’t force the kid to play. If he doesn’t want football in his life, nothing that you can say will change that.”

Cristiano let out a huff. “We’ll see about that. He fits in perfectly.”

“You met him less than a week ago, Cris. Trust me, I’m glad that you’ve made another friend, but it’s stupid to get attached like this.” Pepe was looking at him intently, and he could only roll his eyes.

“I’d hardly say we’re friends. We could be, though, that’s all I’m saying. And he could be on the team.”

“Cris,  look me in the eyes and tell me that you only want him on the team because he’s a good footballer. You gave him your number and I swear you’ve brought him up at least 100 times in the past 24 hours.” Pepe stood up, still looking at Cris. “I’m not saying that somebody has a crush, but…”

He scoffed. “On Gareth Bale? In his dreams. He loves me, of course, but who doesn’t?”

“Good to know that you’re definitely actually feeling better. If you’re done ranting, then, I _did_ have plans before you just stormed in.”

Cristiano could tell that Pepe wasn’t really upset with him, he never was. So he just smirked and stood, offering the other Portuguese a small wave. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for a response, just turning to head out. He could go back to his place and get cleaned up, shower and all, then probably go out and do something. Cristiano was thinking through everything that there was to do whenever he got a text that made him stop in Pepe’s doorway so that he could read it.

‘ _Oh yeah._ ’ From Gareth. Cris stared for a moment, and was about to ask for an explanation before he got another text. ‘ _I_   _just_ ’

Cristiano glanced back at Pepe before stepping out and shutting the door behind him, heading to his car as he watched the typing animation, wondering what Gareth had to say. If he had wanted to keep talking to him, he wouldn’t have hung up. And perhaps it wasn’t really that he didn’t want to talk to Gareth for any reason, he was just still a bit lost as to what to do about him at the moment.

‘ _Wanted to say thank you? I know I’ve kind of blown you off multiple times, but you’re very sweet and I just wanted to say thank you for sticking with me, even if I am a stubborn ass sometimes._ ’

Cristiano wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. He read it twice and chuckled to himself as he started to quickly type a response.

 _‘It’s only been a few days, there’s still time for me to leave. Ask anybody on the team and you’ll know that I’m not all that sweet, only for you._ ’

‘ _You don’t even realise how sweet that sounds, do you? Not the part about leaving, but... I have a feeling you won’t._ ’

He didn’t respond this time, just smiling at the message before putting down his phone again. The kid was cute, he had to admit. For a second his mind fluttered to what Pepe had said, but he just shook his head as he pulled out and started toward his own place.

There was a difference between a guy being cute and actually being interested. A _puppy_ was cute but he wasn’t about to ask one out.

He thought about it as he drove, though, finding the idea harder to shake than he cared to admit, even to himself. Not like it mattered, anyway. Gareth had made it rather clear that he intended on finishing up his obligations for his internship, then having nothing to to do with the team ever again. And sure, Cris still intended on changing that, but…

As he pulled into his place and went to the door, he fingered at his phone in his pocket, wondering what he should say to Gareth. Eventually, he let go of it to unlock the door, figuring that he didn’t really have to answer at all if he didn’t want to. Or maybe he should, he did like Gareth, he didn’t want him to think that he was mad at him because he was very definitely  _not_. Or maybe--

“Cris, you’re home!”

Cristiano’s eyes snapped up in alarm whenever he heard somebody speak, heart jumping to a million beats a second before he realised that he recognised the voice. “What the fuck, Sergio?” He walked past the Spaniard to get a cup of water in the kitchen, wondering if he should even be surprised.

“Well, I came to see you and you weren’t here, but I figured I’d just wait for you. I’ve been here for a while, too, where have you been? And I used your shower, I hope that okay.”

Cris turned back toward Sergio. “Yeah, I noticed,” he said dryly, “considering that you’re still in just a towel and your hair’s wet. I’m never giving anybody a key to my place again.”

“You know you love me,” Sergio chirped, following Cristiano. “I thought about making food, but this kitchen is the saddest place I’ve been in my life.”

“You’re the saddest place I’ve been in my life,” he muttered, getting out a glass while he glanced back at Sergio.

“Ooh, smooth as always. Should I call the press to chronicle this? They could do a whole segment on it. Cristiano, behind the scenes. The life of a school star when--”

The only thing that stopped Sergio from continuing was Cristiano’s hand over his mouth. “Yeah, I think I get it.” He pulled it away to continue on with his getting water, but he certainly didn’t miss Sergio’s smirk.

For a minute there was peace, Sergio just standing there in Cris’s kitchen while he drank a glass of water, still not really as welcome as he was making himself. Then, of course, Sergio spoke up again.

“You never did say where you were.”

“It’s almost like I have a life, no? I could have been at class.”

“But you weren’t.”

“No.”

Sergio pouted a little bit, giving him a thoughtful look. Cristiano just ignored him, taking off his shirt and stretching a little bit. He wondered what the fastest way to get him out of his place would be. Yeah, Sergio was obviously a good friend, but he just needed some time alone to think.

“Cristiano,” Sergio started slowly, “were you out practicing? You know I won’t be happy, and once word gets back to Zinedine, he really won’t be happy. You need to get better!”

“I know, I know.” Cristiano set down his water to hold his hands up in the air in a sign of innocence. “I was out practicing, but I wasn’t doing anything serious. If you really must know, I was out helping Gareth.”

“Bale?” Sergio asked, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t think that he played.”

“Yeah, me neither. He said that he used to, though, and he’s really good.”

“So, he’s trying out next year, or…?”

“Not as of now. I do believe that will change by next year, but we’ll see. Enough time practicing out on the pitch with me could make anybody want to join the team.”

“Aaand, I’ve heard enough. You invited him to my place, right?”

Cristiano rose an eyebrow now, shaking his head. “Toni,” he clarified. “It’s odd, the two of them didn’t actually talk much. Gareth was all over me, though, and he _did_ say that he’d kiss me.”

“You remember when I said that I’d heard enough? Yeah, gonna bring that back up now.” Sergio was smiling, though. Or perhaps it was a bit more of a smirk… “Though a boyfriend could help you, you need a social life outside of the team.”

“Well if things go right, he won’t be ‘outside of the team’. I’m gonna go take a shower, I’d appreciate it if you were gone or dressed by the time I’m out.”

Cristiano figured that he should be used to Sergio’s antics by that point. Leaving him alone in the kitchen, he headed to his bathroom, quickly setting down his shirt and taking off everything else. The whole shower passed in a blur, Cristiano drowning out his thoughts with loud music on his phone. That was a lot easier than trying to actually to figure things out.

Whenever he walked out in a shirt and sweatpants, he was happy to see that Sergio had taken his advice and gotten dressed. He was lounged on Cristiano’s couch with a water bottle, watching some game show on the TV.

“Having fun?” Cris asked, pushing Sergio to the side a bit to make room for himself on the couch.

“Mm, I guess.” Sergio turned off the TV and looked at Cristiano. “However, you’ll be happy to hear that I do actually need to talk to you, I didn’t invade your place just because.”

“Though I wouldn’t put that past you.”

“Hey! I’ve only done that a few times, and never recently. It’s about the team.”

“Oh?” Cristiano’s attention was officially on Sergio, knowing that if it wasn’t something important, he probably wouldn’t have been there. “Something good, I sure hope.”

“Definitely. So, as you know, the season’s going to be over relatively soon.”

“And I’ll be well enough to play the rest of it,” Cristiano piped in, to which Sergio just rolled his eyes.

“And, as you know, we’ll all continue practicing anyway.”

“Of course.”

“Well, we’ve been contacted by an American school, and there’s a possibility that we might be able to go to an off-season tournament that they have there… Lots of money, sure, but what do you think? Good idea or no?”

Cristiano sat back to think about it for a moment. An off-season tournament? Why  _wouldn’t_ they want to go? “Obviously.”

Sergio smiled, seeming pleased, and nodded. “Zinedine told me about it, but he ‘wasn’t sure that there would be interest.’ Because we would miss, what, I think two weeks of classes? I told him that nobody would care but he wasn’t convinced. Or maybe he just wants to think that we care.”

“Nobody would care,” Cristiano agreed. “And I mean, if a few do, it’s just a little off-season thing, right? They don’t _have_ to come, as long as we have a team.”

“Exactly! See, this is why I came to ask you. Like I said, though, it is really expensive… Luckily, the school and our funding will pay for most of it, and there’s a cash prize up for grabs, so…”

“I doubt money will be a problem, since most of us have a lot of it anyway… How soon will Zinedine make his mind?”

“Soon, I hope,” Sergio sighed. “I won’t give up on it so soon, though, either way. I was thinking that if we can get some funds together now, it’ll be impossible for him and the school to say no, right?”

“Sounds reasonable enough.”

“I thought so. Let’s get planning then, yeah? We should probably keep it pretty low-key, just so that the entire team doesn’t get their hopes up, _just in case_.”

“Then let’s get planning,” Cris agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't really have much to say here lol. Comment here or message me @ jacklisowski.tumblr.com, let me know what you think. :) I actually have the next however long planned out so hopefully updates won't be too far apart!


	8. Chapter 8

Gareth almost asked for a third time if he had heard right, but he decided against it, just because he was afraid of annoying Cristiano so much that he didn’t even want him to come anymore.

“I… guess I’ll be there? … Yeah, see you too.”

He waited for the other to hang up, slowly setting his phone down on his desk. Perhaps there really was no escaping the grasp of the football team. Sure, he could have just said no, but… he couldn’t just say no! It would have been rude, and… 

Okay, maybe he did want to see Cristiano. Just a little bit.

Even if it was really sketchy.  _ ‘I’m gonna text you an address, be there at noon?’ _ He wondered when he had come to trust Cris so much.

It was no surprise whenever his phone buzzed with a text from Cristiano. He glanced at the notification, but didn’t open the text, figuring that he’d just pull it up whenever he was leaving. It was too early for him to process written word, anyway.

Who did Cristiano even think that he was, calling him  _ five times _ at nine in the morning, on a day that he had no early classes? Gareth pulled his blanket over his head and closed his eyes, wondering how much time he had to sleep before he actually needed to get up. After thinking for a few minutes, he got back on his phone to set an alarm for eleven. He didn’t stop himself from sleeping, then, falling asleep with his phone plugged in on the pillow next to him.

Whenever he woke up again, he immediately just wanted to go back to sleep. He knew that he had told Cristiano that he would do it, and he didn’t really want to go back on that. Even if it was so, so tempting to just curl back up for a minute or two…

He forced himself out of bed, ran a quick shower, threw on some clothes, went through all of the motions. He had two classes to go to later, so he sure hoped that this wasn’t going to take too long. He was  _ not _ missing any more class time over the team, for any reason. Over the last week or so, he had lost count of how much time he had spent with them. And he hadn’t even spoken to Davies. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he pushed it away.

Gareth looked up the address on his phone as he walked out. It was a little while out, downtown. A bit odd, he thought, but he chose not to question it.  _ Yet _ . He ended up calling a cab, figuring that he needed to if he didn’t want to be late.

The ride went quicker than Gareth thought it would, and before he knew it, they were getting downtown. That’s when the cab stopped, though, blocked off by traffic cones. Not willing to wait, Gareth just got out there, tipping the guy a bit more than necessary. It was only then that he really realised what was going on.

He walked to the address on his phone, looking around and the various tents that were set up, full of food and other products. They were all just setting up, still, so Gareth figured that there was some sort of festival thing to be starting soon that he simply hadn’t heard of. That would definitely not surprise him.

When Gareth recognised the school logo on a tent, he sighed, not sure what else he had expected. He hesitantly walked up, immediately greeted by the smiling face of Sergio turning to face him. He quickly recognised Cris, too, turned around and messing with a back leg of the tent.

“Sergio Ramos, get your ass back over here to help or I will end you.”

“But Cris,” the Spaniard almost whined, smirking slightly at Gareth. “You know that I can’t do it any better than you can.” He gestured for Gareth to come back into the tent past the table up front. He did so, admittedly a bit confused as to why exactly he was there. He didn’t know what to do, either, so he just stood and watched Cristiano in amusement.

“You got the other side!” A quick stream of Portuguese left the man’s tongue before he eventually turned around, shooting daggers at Sergio. This only lasted for a moment, though, before he apparently noticed that the two of them weren’t alone anymore. “Gareth!”

The two of them had grown a little bit closer despite the fact that it had still only been days, so Gareth wasn’t surprised anymore whenever Cristiano strangled him with a hug. They got an odd look from the third wheel, but Gareth didn’t mention it, just smiling politely and trying to wrench himself out of the tight grip entrapping him.

“You ready to get some work done? You’re a talkative person, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.” Cristiano was beaming, and Gareth wondered if maybe he had called the wrong person.

“I’m talkative?” he echoed, looking over at Sergio as if he could come to his rescue.

“Hey, Cris said that you wanted to help--”

“He does!” Cristiano was quick to cut in, wrapping his arms around Gareth. All of the PDA was making him a bit uncomfortable, and it seemed pretty uncharacteristic for the man, so he didn’t know how to react.

“Sure?” he managed after a moment, wriggling away from Cristiano once more. “I, just… what exactly am I helping with?”

“Our raffle…?” Sergio squinted. “Cristiano can’t be here the whole time, so he said that you said that you would help sell tickets so that we don’t fall behind.”

“Isn’t that right, Gareth?”

Sergio rolled his eyes whenever Cris spoke. “The fuck did you do Cris, just tell him to show up?”

“I  _ asked _ him to show up, thank you very much. And he’s here! What’s the problem?”

Sergio just shook his head and started laughing. Gareth glanced between them as he pieced together what was going on. “I though it seemed sketchy,” Sergio declared.

“Oh, you did not.”

“I did, why would he be here? He’s not even on the team!”

“Yet!” Cris cut in, and Gareth was almost starting to wonder if he could quietly slip away without either of the footballers noticing.

Sergio groaned. “I hate you.”

“Hate you more!”

The Spaniard looked to Gareth quickly before returning his attention to Cris. “Then maybe you and Gareth can do this yourself,” he huffed. “I’m gonna go grab a bite to eat somewhere, I’ll be back eventually. Don’t fuck this up!”

“At least Gareth won’t leave me, because he loves me!”

Sergio was already walking away. Gareth got the idea that they weren’t really mad at each other, but he still wished that he could just stay out of it. “Maybe you should have brought Ricardo in to help, then!” Sergio called without turning to look back.

“Maybe I will!”

Sergio didn’t say anything more, and neither did Cristiano for a considerable amount of time. Gareth stood awkwardly under the tent, looking everywhere but at Cris.

“Gareth,” he said eventually, clearing his throat.

The Welshman forced himself to look at him, raising an eyebrow slightly. “I, uh… yeah?”

“We’re having a raffle to raise money for the team. Nobody else on the team knows, Zidane doesn’t know. If they figure it out it’s not a huge deal, but we would prefer for it to be a bit on the down low. If you’re willing to help, we’d appreciate it. A lot.”

Gareth was already nodding slightly. “I mean, I’m already here… I don’t see why not.”

Cris smiled. “Cool. It’s for a tournament in America, actually. You know, maybe if you were on the team…”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, got it. Selling some tickets can’t be too hard.”

“Agreed. But putting up a tent can be,” he huffed, prompting a chuckle from Gareth. “Don’t laugh! I mean it.”

“Oh, I believe you,” he snickered, shaking his head. “Imagine how your image would be ruined, if only the public knew that poor Cristiano Ronaldo can’t put up a tent.”

“You and Sergio are like the same person and I hate both of you,” he huffed.

Gareth hesitated for a moment. “What, so… I love you, and this is what I get in return?” he asked, a cheeky smile overtaking his face.

Cris practically choked on his laughter, unable to stop smiling as he shook his head. “Alright, alright, I love you too.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Now let’s get back to work.”

He didn’t respond, just standing closer to Cris and watching for a moment. “Here, let me…” As he took over for Cristiano, he found that it wasn’t very difficult at all, easily getting it into place.

He wanted to laugh, but at the look on Cris’s face, he stopped himself. “Don’t be that way, you have plenty of more useful skills.”

“I guess."

Gareth only rolled his eyes. “So once people start showing up, I just have to convince them to throw a few dollars at us?”

“Shouldn’t be much convincing needing,” Cris teased, and Gareth was sure that he was checking him out. But he couldn’t be, because this was Cristiano Ronaldo, Cristiano Ronaldo who had a horde of girls vying for his attention at any given time.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mhm. And yeah, that should be about all. Win them over with your tales of how much the team means to you and all.”

“I’ve known the team for how long now?”

Cristiano huffed. “Not the point. You’re one of us now, just make it up if you have to.”

“The things I do for you,” Gareth muttered, shaking his head. He still smiled, though. “How long is this going on, today? I mean, I’m really not busy, but…”

“Officially opens or whatever in like half an hour? It only goes for five hours, and I  _ will _ be here at first, so you shouldn’t have to do too much.”

“Fair enough. I mean, if it’s to help the team, I don’t really mind. My family always says that I need to be more ‘involved with the school’ anyway.” He paused for a moment, then quickly added, “And no, I’m not going to join the team.”

Cris pouted a bit. “You don’t know that I was gonna ask.”

“Mhm. Don’t you always?”

Instead to answering, Cristiano just smiled and said, “Look, Sergio’s back.”

Sergio was chewing on some sort of a sandwich as he walked back in, smiling back at the sound of his name. “Yeah,” he agreed, sitting down on the edge of their table. “The food truck wasn’t really ready to serve food yet, but they made an exception for me.”

“How sweet,” Cris sang, rolling his eyes.

“Very sweet,” Sergio agreed. He held out the sandwich and the other took a small bite, smiling and humming.

Gareth felt a pang in his heart that he didn’t know how to describe. It wasn’t necessarily that he was jealous of either of the two, but perhaps just of the relationship they had. He didn’t think often of his lack of a structured social life, but at times like these, it was hard not to wish that he had  _ somebody _ , at least.

He ignored the voice in his head singing that Davies was right.

“Finish it up quickly, though, there’ll be people here soon!”

“I’m gonna take as long as I need to thoroughly enjoy my sandwich, and you, Cristiano Ronaldo, can’t do a thing about it.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.”

Cris didn’t dignify that with a response, turning to a quiet Gareth instead. “I am so, so sorry that I’m going to be leaving you with this man.”

“Oh, uh, it’s fine…”

“That’s what I thought.” Sergio hopped up, grinning and slinging an arm around Gareth’s shoulders. “We’ll be best friends by the time you see us again.”

Cristiano shrugged, nonchalance painting his face. “Always thought Iker could use a new friend, I’ll just have to…”

Sergio was off of Gareth, hand over Cristiano’s mouth, faster than the poor Welshman could process. “Do nothing!” he finished for him, giving him a pointed glare. Gareth wondered if he should have really stayed home.

Cris held his hands up in surrender, and Sergio backed off, but it didn’t wipe the smirk from his face.

“Truce?” Sergio asked.

“Maybe.”

Gareth could only weakly smile, trying to figure out where exactly he fell into all of this. It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy I'm still alive. Stanley Cup play-offs are real my man. As always, hit me up @ jacklisowski.tumblr.com or in the comments with anything you have to say! Hopefully this will get updated sometime in the next month but knowing me, it's hard to say :p I'm very tired and haven't proofread this lmao I just wanted to get it up, definitely will fix later


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